Forgetful
by Rainsong
Summary: A slightly AU version of events during Jack and Elizabeth's stay on the island. Intoxicated fluffiness with a bittersweet ending. Jack/Elizabeth


Forgetful By Rainsong  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Pirates of the Caribbean by any means. It belongs to the rather skittish folks at Disney, who have probably pissed their pants in fear that this movie would fail. Well, it hasn't, so I'd appreciate some merchandising. I want coffee mugs, people! Also, I quoted Bender from the Breakfast Club.  
  
A/N: Firstly, I feel very accomplished in saying I am the first to post a Jack/Elizabeth Stuff Happened on the Island fic. I know there will be 50 more to follow. Also, this may be revised in the future. Not sure I'm happy with it.  
  
Dedicated to my bestestfriendinthewholewideworld Phil, who'd be horrified if he knew I spent my time writing these things online, and to Leiha for use of the word 'sloshed'.  
  
***  
Captain Jack Sparrow didn't have a vested interest in many things. Even when he virtually had the world on a platter, he found it rather unimpressive. You see, the world is full of dim-witted, ignorant fools who spent the majority of their time running into allegorical walls. How anyone could have use for such idiocy was truly beyond him. That, of course, is why he had to choose his company very carefully. And, if forced to consort with gibbering simpletons, he had to see to it that their inherent dimness didn't stick them in a rather unpleasant spot. Like an isolated, uninhabited island in the middle of the Caribbean Sea.  
  
But, he realized, as his gaze fell upon the shoreline, every desperate situation has a single, infallible solution.  
  
Captain Jack Sparrow broke out another bottle of rum.  
  
***  
  
Wearing nothing but undergarments would have been rather uncomfortable in most situations. Though, Elizabeth Swann admitted to herself with some difficulty, it really was rather airy. And she had much more mobility, which was useful for traipsing through the forested area, searching for food and fresh water.  
  
She stopped abruptly, looking blankly through the mass of palm trees behind her. Was it really fair for her to be the one doing the traipsing? Shouldn't Captain Jack Sparrow, who had created this predicament in the first place, be on the hunt for nourishment? Honestly, if he were any sort of Captain at all, he wouldn't have had his ship taken over by undead half- wits. He doesn't seem to like half-wits very much, anyway.  
  
Besides, if he were searching for food, he could swagger in the process. And Elizabeth pinched herself absentmindedly when she realized that she found his particular swagger to be dead sexy.  
  
She continued to wander aimlessly for nearly half an hour before realizing that her behavior was bordering on stupid, and the last thing she needed was for Jack to enter her name in the Moron Book. If you're stranded on an island indefinitely, it's a better to have your companion think you to be even somewhat useful, rather than completely incompetent, she decided.  
  
***  
  
Jack turned around in time to see Elizabeth emerge from the tropical forest, a twig sticking out of her horrendously tangled hair and wearing an unusually disgruntled look. At least when his hair was horrendously tangled, it looked purposeful. He rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to the deep, red sunset on the horizon and taking another drink of rum, knowing full well that there could be one of those womanly slaps coming his way.  
  
She came to a halt next to where he was seated, positioning her hands on her hips and looking at him expectantly. When he refused to acknowledge her presence, she threw herself onto the sand next to him rather childishly.  
  
"Fantastic. There is no fruit of any sort on this island, nor is there fresh water."  
  
Jack turned to face her. "Darling, do you honestly think Barbossa would dump us on an island that had either of those things?"  
  
She considered this for a moment, becoming rather silent in the process.  
  
"And it's not like we don't have rum!" he added cheerfully, waving the bottle invitingly in front of her.  
  
"No power on this Earth could make me consume a single drop of that- that devil's drink!" Elizabeth spat, looking at the bottle of rum with great dislike.  
  
"Suit yourself. At least we know now who'll be needing that single bullet." Jack said airily, shrugging.  
  
"That's ridiculous. Someone will find us before then." Elizabeth replied somewhat shakily.  
  
"Love, it takes three days before you dehydrate and crumple like a dried-out fern. Which, if you don't mind me saying so, will do absolutely nothing for your figure."  
  
Elizabeth sputtered indignantly before reaching out and snatching the bottle from Jack's hand. She proceeded to take a most unladylike swig, before wiping her mouth on the back of her hand and thrusting the bottle back and Jack, looking both thoroughly disgusted and defeated.  
  
"Now that's the spirit!" Jack said enthusiastically. He wondered vaguely how much more taunting was needed for her to do that again.  
  
Elizabeth grabbed the twig distractedly from her hair and began doodling abstract shapes in the sand. Jack narrowed his eyes. Perhaps those drawings weren't meant to be abstract, after all. Because if he tilted his head slightly to the left, he could sort of see-  
  
Well, maybe not. He doubted she was drawing that.  
  
***  
  
Many hours had passed, and the moon was already high. Elizabeth guessed that it was probably already after midnight. The sky was alight with millions of stars, many more than Elizabeth had ever been able to see from her home in Port Royal. She smiled to herself when she realized that Jack, who was lying there with her as she rested her head on his shoulder, was probably seeing something more akin to very large lights swaying in and out of focus.  
  
"Beautiful, arn' they?" he said, drunkenly slurring some of his words together.  
  
"Very. Could you see this many stars the last time you were here?" she asked, trying to sound equally as sloshed.  
  
"Don't remember. I was mos'ly looking for those sea turtles." He said, gesturing lazily at the ocean.  
  
Elizabeth erupted in hysterical giggles. She found that she was becoming quite proficient at this drunkenness thing. "But I thought you bartered passage on that trade ship, and you were only here for three days?"  
  
"Codswallop. There were sea turtles." Jack said, again waving his hand dismissively.  
  
Elizabeth watched as he took another gulp of rum, hoping that he would either pass out or fall asleep soon. She refused to stay here much longer and listen to him ramble on about nonexistent adventures with sea turtles. There was a fire to be started, and the less rum it took for him to reach a state of unconsciousness, the more rum she had to fuel the flames.  
  
"When I get the Pearl back," Jack began for what must have been the millionth time, "I'm going to give it a right good patching up. Not by myself, of course. I'll have the crew do all the dirty work. Then, I'll have the whole deck to myself for a day o' two."  
  
"And what does a dashing captain like yourself do during quiet time such as that?" Elizabeth wondered out loud.  
  
"Sing ridiculous songs abou' treasure and think about whatever I plan to do next." He declared.  
  
Elizabeth sighed. "Must be wonderful, having all of that freedom, coming and going when you please."  
  
Jack narrowed his eyes. "Don' get much of that, do you, Love?  
  
Elizabeth laughed. "The governor's daughter? Of course not. They practically call out the Royal Guard when I cross the street. You might say that I don't even know what freedom is."  
  
"Wha' abou' all of this adventure you've been partakin' in? That's a bit o' freedom."  
  
Elizabeth was silent for a moment. "I'm either locked in a cabin somewhere or being sacrificed to Heathen gods. Neither one really epitomizes independence, now does it?"  
  
Jack shrugged. "I suppose not. But I mus' say, you've 'ad some stellar opportunities."  
  
"Opportunities for what?"  
  
"Freedom!" Jack said enthusiastically, swinging the bottle of rum. "You're stranded here with me on a lonely island. You've been sayin' the whole time that you take ev'ry chance you get to prove that you've got your own mind, 'specially with that father of yours," Jack then lowered his voice. "Don't you think I'd be excellent in that capacity?"  
  
Elizabeth heard herself laugh, but it sounded distant and nervous. Partly because she found that she agreed with him.  
  
"Well, I rather think I'd have to fall in love with you first."  
  
"Shouldn't be hard. You ever been in love?" he asked, still staring at the stars absentmindedly.  
  
Elizabeth was rather startled. Not only was this a rather complex question for someone who was utterly intoxicated to ask, but it was also one that she wasn't sure she had an answer to. Figuring that he probably wouldn't notice if she canned the drunken broad act for a few moments, she answered coherently.  
  
"Well, I've always had feelings for Will-"  
  
"Turner? Spare me." Jack interrupted.  
  
"And what's wrong with Will?" Elizabeth asked indignantly.  
  
"He's a pansy."  
  
Elizabeth stared at Jack incredulously. Not only had he gotten them inadvertently stuck on a desert island, now he was insulting her heart's purest desire.  
  
"Will is not a pansy." She responded, seriously considering throwing his arm off her shoulder.  
  
"Yes he is. You know what I 'ad to listen to for the first coup'la days I was stuck with him? 'My father's was not a pirate! Pirates are smelly! My bloodline is above all of that! Oh my, are we going to steal that ship, Jack? But that's morally reprehensible!' Like I said. Pansy."  
  
Elizabeth silently admitted that Will wasn't exactly used to the same lifestyle as Jack. But for being a goody-two-shoes blacksmith, he certainly had adapted to the best of his ability.  
  
She smiled, feeling suddenly intelligent. "I bet you're just jealous."  
  
"No, I'm really just stating the obvious, love. The truth hurts."  
  
She cursed silently, somewhat disheartened that he wasn't harboring an undying passion for her. It would certainly make all of this more interesting. Then, we she found Will again, she could inform him that there was a love triangle, and that he had serious competition. Jack and Will would then proceed to argue viciously, possibly being forced to resort to hand-to-hand combat.  
  
And Elizabeth pinched herself once more when she found that this, too, turned her on.  
  
***  
  
If this conversation weren't so terribly interesting, Jack felt that he would have no problem with falling asleep at this very moment. But all of this drunken talk of love had set him on a definite mission; to discern why anyone would feel even remotely attracted to Will Turner.  
  
"And you think that Will's interested in you?" he asked, figuring that this would be an excellent opportunity to determine Elizabeth's intelligence quotient.  
  
"Well, he did come all this way to rescue me, didn't he?"  
  
Stand by, Doc, we're sensing brain activity.  
  
"That he did. But he needed my help to get this far, mind you." Jack asserted.  
  
Elizabeth laughed. Well, it was more of a combination of a giggle and a cackle, which was not very becoming.  
  
"You're still trying to take credit for this. I think you love me."  
  
Jack employed another eye roll. "No, I'm trying to prove that Will's a pansy, savvy?"  
  
"Right, because you think you're not a pansy, therefore making you better than him, therefore making you more worthy of my heart! You see? You're just trying to rationalize it all in your head!" Elizabeth accused with a rather disturbing amount of vigor.  
Jack realized that he really had no coherent response to this. Besides, they were both equally as polluted with rum. Might as well play along.  
  
"Fine, you got me. I am completely and madly in love with you."  
  
Elizabeth looked satisfied. "Well, unfortunately it will never work out between us. I'm wealthy and respectable and practically promised to Commodore Norrington-"  
  
"What is it with you and these nancy boys? Tell me, do you flock to them, or do they flock to you?" Jack interjected.  
  
"-and you're a marauding, unavailable pirate who wants nothing more than treasure and a good swordfight."  
  
"Oh, honestly now, don't you think that's a bit limiting?"  
  
He saw Elizabeth tilt her head as though considering. "Until you prove yourself to be otherwise, I think not."  
  
"And would this test of worthiness involve sea turtles? I'm rather good with sea turtles" Jack asked, feeling his mind sliding around as though it were a ship in choppy water.  
  
"I'd be impressed if you got us off this island," Elizabeth replied in what seemed to be all honesty. She suddenly looked rather sober, to Jack's dismay. But he brushed it off. She's probably afraid of the dark. Yes, that'll be it. Sort of cute, really.  
  
"Would you be duly impressed if made the time spent on said island worthwhile?" he asked.  
  
He realized, if realization of anything was possible at this point, that Elizabeth had rather nice eyes.  
  
***  
  
Before Elizabeth had a chance to get a word in edgewise, she found herself kissing Jack rather passionately. Not that she had started it, of course. She wasn't that desperate. But though she hadn't been the one to initiate, she was certainly giving in return.  
  
It wasn't too bad, really. Only a day ago she would have been repulsed by the thought of kissing a pirate, mostly because of the dirt and missing teeth and overall stench. But Jack had managed to stay suitably clean, had all of his teeth as far as Elizabeth could tell, and really only smelled like rum. Then again, so did she. Apparently she'd drunk enough of the stuff to get herself in this situation.  
  
As his soft kisses moved down her neck, she realized how fast the day had gone by, and with such hurry at that. It seemed as though only a moment ago she was standing on a wooden plank, suspended above the enveloping sea. And, only moments before that, she was standing on a dock with a gun to her had and a cool, wet chain draped across her neck. Perhaps she was only connecting the slightly traumatic events of the day.  
  
But being held hostage by Jack the morning before wasn't very traumatic at all. A bit irritating at the most. There was something about the way he spoke to her that communicated, without stating directly, that he didn't intend to harm her. Jack's full intention was simply to escape the Royal Guard as swiftly as possible; he had simply wanted to have a bit of fun doing it. Which suddenly caused her to shove him away roughly.  
  
"Am I just part of whatever stupid game you're playing? A pawn in y- your grand scheme to live in the moment? Because I refuse to be misled and toyed with-"  
  
"Playing a game?" Jack smirked "Elizabeth, Love, that's all we've ever done."  
  
He didn't waste any time in resuming the kiss. Elizabeth felt herself submitting to every movement, every small motion. She felt one of his hands on her back, unlacing the ribbons on the back of the woven slip she had previously been wearing underneath the dress given to her by Barbossa. Her eyes widened. She vaguely heard a bell go off somewhere in her mind, undoubtedly the bell that signaled dangerous territory.  
  
Elizabeth was relieved that she had enough willpower to ignore such trivial warnings.  
  
***  
  
Elizabeth awoke an hour or so after dawn the next morning. She felt a flurry of gnats swarming above her, and swatted them away with her hand. She sighed, knowing that she was probably covered in bug bites as well. She dislodged the arm that was wrapped around her protectively so that she could sit up.  
  
Wait. Arm. Arms are connected to bodies. In this case, naked bodies. Naked bodies of pirates.  
  
Oh God. Naked pirate.  
  
Elizabeth began to hurriedly throw on her dress, if one could call it that, and ran off to get the supply of rum from its hiding place in preparation to create the largest bonfire in history. Perhaps she could burn down the whole island. Plead insanity. And as she reflected on the previous night as being fairly amazing, she concluded that there would be no need to plead anything. When the Port Royal guard anchored to find her clinging for dear life to one of the most wanted pirates in the Caribbean, the whole situation would sort of speak for itself.  
  
***  
  
"Yes, but why is the rum gone?" Jack asked for what seemed to be the hundredth time as he stared at the burning wreckage in horror.  
  
"Like I said, it's rubbish." Elizabeth insisted.  
  
A roguish smile crept up onto Jack's face. "You're just bitter because you had a little fun," he accused, grabbing Elizabeth's hands and pulling her closer to him.  
  
"That's not true," Elizabeth lied. Jack shook his head hopelessly. She really couldn't mask anything unless she really put her mind to it. And in this particular case, she was putting up a relatively pathetic fight.  
  
"Look, pet, if you don't want me to tell anyone about last night, all you had to do was ask. I'm quite used to that sort of thing, you see." Jack said. Elizabeth stared back at him, her expression rather softened. She gazed back at him, looking tentative.  
  
"Jack, it's not that I don't-"  
  
But he waved his hand dismissively, not wanting to hear what she had to say. It was probably something vitriolic and bizarrely apologetic. He didn't want her pity. When she said last night that she didn't want to be his game, he knew exactly what she meant. He refused to be hers as well.  
  
"Go save the day and marry Turner and live your quiet country life. That's what you want, isn't it?"  
  
Elizabeth looked away, as though she couldn't bear the intensity that seemed to be radiating between them. "I don't know," she answered softly, looking up. He was surprised to see her eyes glistening, and sure enough, tears began to slide down her face.  
  
***  
  
Elizabeth looked away from Jack once again, self-conscious of the fact that she was crying. In fact, her eyes were probably all red and blotchy, and she hardly wanted to look like she was falling apart. The last thing she wanted from Jack was pity.  
  
"What the blazes do you mean, 'you don't know'?" Jack said, with great energy. "Of course it's what you want. It's what you've wanted since you first met him, and it's what you wanted last night, and it's what you want this very instant. Why are you suddenly so frightened of it?"  
  
"It's exactly like I said. I don't know if that's what I want."  
  
Jack rolled his eyes. "Then apparently, I know you better than you know yourself. And when that ship pulls in," he said, gesturing at the billowing white sails that were creeping up towards the island, "you're getting on and telling Commodore Tight Arse how abominable your stay on this island was with the terrible pirate, and that it's essential that you save the kind-hearted blacksmith from the other terrible pirates. And he'll nod and send you to the cabins where everyone thinks you belong. And that will be your big adventure to tell the grandchildren about. Savvy?"  
  
Elizabeth stared, not quite sure how she wanted to respond to his tirade. She could shout about how unfair that would be for him. She could fall to her knees and cry and beg him to give her an alternative, a way around everything he had just said. She could laugh and tell him that that was what she had planned on doing from the start.  
  
But instead, she nodded softly, and walked past him towards the shore.  
  
~**~End~**~ 


End file.
